


Day 7: Cold

by insertfandomjoke



Series: December Drabbles [7]
Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: December Drabble, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, here you go, this is also for the fander-secret-santa thing on tumblr so like, this one isn't christmas related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-12 22:17:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12969585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insertfandomjoke/pseuds/insertfandomjoke
Summary: Virgil wakes up cold.





	Day 7: Cold

Virgil is always cold.

On the sunniest of summer days, you can find him shivering within his hoodie and insisting on turning off the fans, which annoys the others more often than not.

Most days he’s able to find comfort in the radiator Roman and Logan worked together to conjure up one particularly biting winter and he only turns it off when the others complain about the extra heat. Even then, he makes a habit of finding a secluded corner or two where he can turn it on without bothering anyone else. (Last June, before Accepting Anxiety, the others told him off for having it on so much, so Virgil had kidnapped the radiator and kept it in his room instead. He had stayed inside with it, withdrawing from them more and more until he realised that no one cared enough to check up on him, which eventually led to his attempted departure from Thomas. _But things are different now.)_

He wakes from his memories with a start. As Virgil is _Anxiety,_ not Creativity, he can’t really dream apart from his worries manifesting themselves into a sick twisted version of reality or his subconscious churning over past events. Sometimes it’s nice to relive things as a break from his night terrors. Most times it isn’t much better at all.

He glances around the room and tugs the purple-patched hoodie tighter around his shaking shoulders. He realises the bed is bare of another body and immediately sits upright. The cold takes the opportunity to creep into the opening made by Virgil’s disappointed sigh and it drips down his throat and nestles in his chest.

The _only_ thing Virgil hates more than the constant cold is waking up alone – well, ever since his relationship with Roman started, that is. His boyfriend has taken great measures to ensure Virgil would be as warm as the prince could get him at all times. Such measures include creating a whole room that wouldn’t have any side-effects if they chose to stay a while.

_“The neutral zone,”_ Roman had dubbed it.

Afterwards, he and the anxious side would spend their nights cuddled up on the bed in the centre of the room. Virgil leeches off of Roman’s body heat to treat his deep-seated chill and in turn, Roman vents his frustrations and problems to his patient boyfriend. (God, Virgil loves that word. _Boyfriend._ It’s solid and familiar and so much more real than his sniping insecurities.)

It goes without saying that Virgil has gotten used to waking up pressed against Roman’s _warm, warm, warm_ chest. So where is he now?

Virgil stands up on trembling legs and tugs the blanket with him, wrapping it around his body and stumbling over the ends as he makes his way to the door. He doesn’t know what he even hopes to do in the common area of the mindscape. Roman could be anywhere.

Virgil just doesn’t expect him to be right outside the door. They crash into each other and his mind vaguely registers the sound of something shattering as he rights himself.

“Roman?” he gasps when the morning fog inside his brain lifts.

“Hello,” the royal greets sheepishly as he gingerly steps over the broken remains of a mug. “I made us drinks, but, well…” He trails off and Virgil’s guilt threatens to consume him as he watches brown liquid make its way through the strings of carpet. “Anyway, that’s a problem for later!” He enters the room, tugging Virgil with him, and closes the door.

Roman pulls Virgil over to the bed and sits him down, then hands him the mug of hot chocolate that didn’t break. “I don’t need it,” Roman assures when his boyfriend looks like he’s about to protest.

Virgil shivers again and _finally_ accepts it, taking a long, grateful sip. He wants to ask Roman why he’s doing this, but then Roman pulls him to his chest. They sit up against the headrest of the bed together and Roman tugs a blanket over them both.

“You always say you’re cold,” Roman begins to explain, “so I wanted to try and warm you up as much as possible.”

Virgil is about to say that he’s already tried every trick in the book, but Roman halts his thoughts as he traces patterns over Virgil’s arms that are rough with goosebumps. Roman snaps his fingers and the radiator appears beside the bed and Virgil shudders – not because of the cold, but because the content curling around his heart is so full he thinks he may burst. Roman runs a hand through his hair and leans down to kiss his forehead and the feeling enlarges tenfold, trickling through Virgil’s veins and flushing the chill out.

“I love you, my moon,” Roman murmurs, and Virgil has never felt warmer.

The anxious side leans up to press a kiss to his jaw and settles back down again. After a thoughtful moment, he replies, “I love you too, my sun.”

He settles back down and slowly drains his mug of hot chocolate, and before he knows it, Roman is taking it away and setting it on the bedside table as he falls into a peaceful sleep.

-

Virgil still feels cold a lot of the time, but he knows there is something – someone – that never fails to quell the metaphorical ice-beast before it rises.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing Prinxiety in five months whoop whoop.
> 
> Please consider leaving kudos/comments! Thank you for reading. (Also, psstt... pattonscardigan.tumblr.com/tagged/december-drabbles also has all the fics so far.)


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